Lord Gazter observes the commotion at table 6, but makes no move to do anything about it. ‘I’ll discover the meaning behind that later.’ He thinks to himself before turning back to the table before anyone notices that his attention had been diverted.
[quote=Lord Gazter]Lord Gazter offers Appolonia her chair before returning to his own. "You are an extrodinary dancer Appolonia." Lord Gazter eyes seem to twinkle as he talks. "We must do this again some time." He smiles charmingly towards Appolonia.
Lord Gazter asks one of the waiters to refill his glass and after his glass is refilled and he had taken a sip he turned back towards the other guests at the table. "So where were we, dear friends?"[/quote]Ginneon welcomes Appolonia back with a glass of eiswein. "And one for you as well, Lord Gazter, when you’re ready. I’m sure you worked up quite a thirst, waltzing with such flair." He leans closer, grinning. "I’d be careful if I were you though - lest your flair rouse the jealousy of our Carmilla."
[quote=Lord Gazter]Lord Gazter observes the commotion at table 6, but makes no move to do anything about it. ‘I’ll discover the meaning behind that later.’ He thinks to himself before turning back to the table before anyone notices that his attention had been diverted.[/quote]The confrontation at Table Six is hard to miss. "Heavens," the professor says. "Who brings a scimitar to dinner?" He looks around, concerned. "Has anyone seen Ms Hysaro?"
Appolonia sips the eiswein, looking flushed and happy from the dancing.
She is still wearing the mushroom crown that Ginneon made for her.
“Mmmmmm, eiswein and a floral crown and a festive country dance. I should have brought my dirndl and my accordion and the spirit of Gemütlichkeit would be complete. Friends and good cheer. Oktoberfest.”
“And now you have seen me dance ‘the square’, Mr. Lefither. Our bargain is fulfilled.” She grins.
Turning back to her fellow dancers, she adds: “You all are such good sports, and wonderful dancers.”
“Particularly you, Huntress. You are from Vienna? I have never been there, but I hear it is a splendid place. And not so far from my home that was. Do you miss it? What was your life like there? If you do not mind speaking of it.”
“And I am glad for the chance to waltz too, Lord Gazter. Thank you.”
She turns to see the commotion at Table 6 when it occurs.
People threatened? Arrested? A scimitar?
She frowns and leans instinctively closer to Lady Sapho.
At Ginneon’s question: “I think Sara said she was leaving briefly to fetch a friend? I look forward to meeting any friend of hers.”
[quote=Ginneon Thursday][quote=Lord Gazter]Lord Gazter offers Appolonia her chair before returning to his own. "You are an extrodinary dancer Appolonia." Lord Gazter eyes seem to twinkle as he talks. "We must do this again some time." He smiles charmingly towards Appolonia.
Lord Gazter asks one of the waiters to refill his glass and after his glass is refilled and he had taken a sip he turned back towards the other guests at the table. "So where were we, dear friends?"[/quote]Ginneon welcomes Appolonia back with a glass of eiswein. "And one for you as well, Lord Gazter, when you’re ready. I’m sure you worked up quite a thirst, waltzing with such flair." He leans closer, grinning. "I’d be careful if I were you though - lest your flair rouse the jealousy of our Carmilla."[/quote]
"How do you that there is not a worse monster hiding underneath these bandages?" Lord Gazter responds back with an amused grin on his face.
Lord Gazter laughs and takes a sip from his glass. “Is that a wise decision? What if there are some monsters, who are excellent conversationalists?”
"Now now Lord Gazter - what have we said about wisdom? Besides, if things go south," Ginneon looks to Nell, "I always find it’s best to seat yourself beside a Monster Hunter."
"It is an interesting question. What is the most terrifying or strangest or most curious monster in the Neath," Appolonia adds, after a rather long sip of the deliciously sweet eiswein.
"Maybe our Huntress or Mr. Kassington or others here have an opinion. I have heard there are terrible things to zee. I’m sure there are thrilling tales to be had in it."
"Probably the strangest creatures I’ve seen are from the Bishop’s breeding experiments. My personal favorite that I helped breed was the muscaliet. A strange little creature. A bit of a cross between a hare, a pig, a mole, a boar and a weasel. Tremendously musical – I think that was my influence – and something of a viable heat source."
"The Bishop is planning to strap muscaliet-driven steam organs to the backs of elephants to keep the hymns sounding on the front lines of his war, when it comes."
"I do not agree with the Bishop on many things, but I do adore organ music."
“Speaking of music,” Lady Byron interjects, having returned to the table’s conversation from some languorous reverie (which, given the Venderbight of Damocles which ever hovers above her head, shall remain unrevealed), “I would very much enjoy a dance with you, Ms Von Ravenscroft.”
Appolonia smiles radiantly at Lady Byron’s invitation.
"I’d like that very much!"
She sounds a little breathless at the thought.
[quote=Appolonia]"It is an interesting question. What is the most terrifying or strangest or most curious monster in the Neath," Appolonia adds, after a rather long sip of the deliciously sweet eiswein.
"Maybe our Huntress or Mr. Kassington or others here have an opinion. I have heard there are terrible things to zee. I’m sure there are thrilling tales to be had in it."
"Probably the strangest creatures I’ve seen are from the Bishop’s breeding experiments. My personal favorite that I helped breed was the muscaliet. A strange little creature. A bit of a cross between a hare, a pig, a mole, a boar and a weasel. Tremendously musical – I think that was my influence – and something of a viable heat source.""[/quote]
Morkan stirs from his nap when he hears his name mentioned.
"From my experience, there’s a point when folks stop being frightened by a beast and more by the minds behind it. A sorrow-spider the size of a cow can give 'em folks at the Department nightmares. But it’s the razor bladed legs that gets the laudanum rations out, because either old mother nature is a daft lass or some folks failed to play god. In this case, it was L.B.s."
He winks at Appolonia. "If you are snooping around the Labyrinth, keep it musical."
"Oh, I am not afraid of spiders. I like spiders."
"Though I’ve never seen one as big as a cow. That might be rather unsettling."
"I have a lovely sorrow-spider, very fluffy and pretty, who was once my chaperone and now my friend."
"I haven’t been to the Labyrinth much since the election. I think the Bishop took my campaigning for Jenny rather hard. My song got sung all over the docks. But if a Christian man cares less for the poor than another candidate… Well, I cannot feel too bad for setting that to verse."
She smiles then, hearing the musicians, in the background, start another waltz.
It turns out that there is a further guest at the table. Strange. How had no-one noticed the cloaked, leather-clad gentleman? Had seen him neither arrive nor dine?
And yet: when he speaks, it is clear that he has been observing each moment of the evening’s discussion.
“No beast compares with the evils of man - of that, I assure you.”
The manner of his cutlery-manipulation brings to mind kifers and surface-spices; he is just finishing the dissection of some jilly-fish.
“Oh, there are fears, of course - the Vake will cause one to shiver; and the denizens of the deepest wells terrify. But for ingenuity of dread, look to the acts of humanity.”
The placecard reads Ewan C. Evidently his point is made: he returns to self-contained observation and to the shadows - peculiar how the lamps seem to avert their glare from him. In the folds of his cravat, though, a brief glimpse of the pendant that signifies membership in the Order of the hooded erithacus rubecula.
"Mr…Ewan, is it?" From the nest of petals, beard, and leaves that is his head, Ginneon regards his fellow guest with unbroken joviality. "Funny - I had not seen you before! More’s the pity, as you’ve missed your share of several good wines. Here. On Ms Ravenscroft’s recommendation - try this and tell me you do not feel a Surface Winter’s first crisp breath on a late autumn morn."
Ginneon fills a glass for the stranger. "Ice wine is rather rare, you know. The very first morning of the year that the grapes freeze on the vine, a vineyard must summon a veritable army in a moment’s notice to harvest the entire crop within a few hours. An entire village comes together in common cause and herculean labour to create this which you see before you."
"Now, to your point, Mr Ewan, humankind may produce the worst monsters. And to Lord Gazter’s point, the worst monsters may very well be the best conversationalists. But let us not forget that - on very cold mornings - humankind also unites to produce eiswein: a drink whose sole purpose is the instigation of joy."
edited by Ginneon Thursday on 11/8/2016
Lord Gazter turns and looks over towards the previously silent member of the table. He takes a sip and looks over this new member of the conversation. Lord Gazter mulls over the words in his mind for a bit before taking another sip from his glass and placing it down on the table, but he chooses to remain silent.
Appolonia smiles at Professor Thursday’s description of how eiswein is made, and what values it therefore celebrates.
"You have such a way with words, Professor."
"Ein Prosit! A toast!" She lifts her glass. "To all the rare things that give us joy!"
After the toast, she looks thoughtful.
"Parties like this are a rare joy too. The chance to meet new friends and converse. I hope we can all stay in touch. Well, anyone who wishes."
A slight blush. Perhaps it is presumptuous to think anyone will want that.
She reaches into her reticule and produces a little stack of cards. She passes them around, making sure each person gets one, even the oft shadow-hidden Mr. C.
The enclosed card has the name "Miss Appolonia VonRavenscroft". The stock is an expensive ivory, with the letters in crisp black font. One side of the card is printed with an address at a Spire of the Bazaar. Daily hours when she receives callers at that location are included. There is a faint pattern in the cardstock that appears at first glance to be a natural imperfection of the paper, but on closer examination forms seven notes of music on a staff.
edited by Appolonia on 11/7/2016
[quote=Appolonia]"You have such a way with words, Professor."
"Ein Prosit! A toast!" She lifts her glass. "To all the rare things that give us joy!"[/quote]"Ms Ravenscroft, your taste in words is unimpeachable." The professor laughs a hearty laugh, then raises his glass in turn.
"A fine toast indeed!" the professor calls out as he clinks his glass. "This evening has been a pure delight, and I, too, look forward to seeing you each again soon." He proffers his calling card to all: engraved you find "Prof. Ginneon Thursday" and the addresses of his home and office at Benthic College.
"Miss Ravenscroft, I see from your calling card that we both occupy a Spire. It is a wonder of the Bazaar how difficult it is to meet one’s neighbours! But perhaps I could make a neighbourly request: I have business close-by later tonight and regrettably have no one to occupy my carriage on its return trip. Would you do me the favour of helping my driver earn his wage and have him bring you home? Lady Byron mentioned something, I believe, about transportation difficulties. Perhaps you two could share the carriage?"
He refills his glass. "The merrymaking need not end now, of course. Just a thought for later."
Ginneon turns back to the shadowy figure. "Mr Ewan - that is a charming pendant. Wherever did you get it?"
"Ah that is a kind offer, Professor."
"I leave the matter of our transport and destination entirely in Lady Byron’s hands." A smile for that exquisite lady.
She turns to look at Mr. C’s pendant when Ginneon draws attention to it.
Following the intrigue of what transpired, Sara returns to her table a little apologetic for the wait. A raven with pure white plumage is perched upon her arm, curiously looking over the table’s various costume choices. "I’m very sorry about that! There was some commotion outside, and I got a little wrapped up in it. Didn’t mean to be gone for so long."
Following her apologies she glances cheerily at Caldyr before looking back to the rest of the group. "Anyway, this handsome fellow here is Caldyr, the friend I mentioned bringing in earlier. He’s not very talkative around strangers, but I promise he’ll at least be a little social. Right, Caldyr?" She beams at the raven. He responds with an unamused glance. Her smile dims, and she gives a single resigned nod before returning her attention to the rest of the table. A hand flourish precedes her next statement, communicating that she tried. "Well, he’ll answer questions at least."
She gives a quick round of introductions for Caldyr’s benefit before settling back down in her chair, the raven choosing a spot on the table nearby. Despite his supposed agitation at Sara’s insistence that he be social he greets each person as they are named with a graceful bow of the head. He glances around the room briefly, seeing the wide variety of costumes present. Sara gives him a smile, "Lots of fun costumes this year, huh?"
He nods, replying in a soft, pleasant tone. "No shortage of creativity this year." He stretches a wing, looking around the room again. "The last had far less diversity. Tradition can grow stale." He holds back a statement wishing the shift in focus wasn’t centered around a bombing and opportunism, keeping the conversation light in the spirit of a party.